


TOUCH

by Bang Bang Beef Keef (BangBangBeefKeef)



Series: HANDS [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ace Reader Approved, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Canon Compliant, Dirty Talk, Early in Canon, Finger Sucking, First Kiss, Gay Disaster Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Grinding, Hand & Finger Kink, Implied Masturbation, Implied Sexual Content, Klance smut, Lance grinds on Keith's lap, Lance has a dry orgasm, Lance sucks Keith's fingers while Keith touches himself, M/M, Quirofilia, Rival Klance, Rutting, Sensual Play, Sensuality, Soft Keith/Lance (Voltron), Some feels, finger licking good, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 02:09:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19122442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BangBangBeefKeef/pseuds/Bang%20Bang%20Beef%20Keef
Summary: Two hand related incidents under their belt and Keith and Lance's relationship has developed to secret light touches. Late at night on the Bridge, Lance starts up some dirty talk and things escalate quickly. Lance as a clear plan of what he wants to do with Keith and what he wants Keith to do to him. Excerpt:SNAPThe unmistakable sound of Lance undoing the button on Keith’s fingerless gloves. Okay, now Keith couldn’t pretend anymore. He had to watch this part. Had to intently watch as Lance slid his fingertips under the edge of his glove and slowly peeled it back.“It’s so tight,” muttered Lance.Keith sucked his lip into his mouth and bit down. He would not verbally react to this.The glove caught briefly at the fingers then released. With a flick of his wrist, Lance was rid of the thing, flinging it to the side as it weren’t one half of Keith’s favourite possessions, and then his fingertips, Lance’s fingertips were exploring Keith’s naked hand.“You have the softest skin,” muttered Lance. “I guess that’s what the gloves are for.”





	TOUCH

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RADifer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RADifer/gifts), [Anime_fangirl823](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anime_fangirl823/gifts), [letmebelex (Willow_wolfe88)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willow_wolfe88/gifts), [crazyrandomhappenklance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyrandomhappenklance/gifts), [devoosha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/devoosha/gifts).



Keith flew into his bedroom. When the door shut and he was truly alone, he slumped against the wall, still wet with his towel wrapped around his waist. Frustrated, he let his fist drop heavy against the wall.

Stupid.

So stupid.

He’d done what he always did with Lance. He took whatever scrap of bait Lance dangled in front of him and escalated the situation.

It could’ve been so easy to ignore Lance and his attempts to grab Keith’s attention and his terrible hand puns, but noooo Keith had to ask Lance to feel him up in the shower while he jerked himself off!

Keith felt embarrassed over what he’d done, but since he wasn’t comfortable with that emotion, he flipped it to the one he was most familiar with, anger, anger at himself though. He wasn’t mad at Lance. This hadn’t been Lance’s design even if he sparked the idea…

It had just been the way Lance had been watching him the whole time he showered. Lance’s dedicated attention to the way Keith’s hands ran through his own hair and over his body… Then he’d gone and asked Lance to wash his back, wanting more than Lance’s attention. Wanting his touch. He knew what he was getting from that, where it would lead… it’s just… he kept thinking back to the Galra base and the flush of Lance’s face, the glassy eyes, the red lips… how badly Keith had wanted to feel that too.

Now he’d felt it. They were even. So it was over. Neither owed the other anything. Neither would tell the other’s story because if Lance told anyone about the shower, Keith would tell them about the Galra base and vice versa. Mutually assured destruction. Keith could file the shower under “symptoms of space madness” and move on.

He tried anyway.

To Keith’s credit he did try to move on. The problem was Lance was not the type to move on. Lance was not the type to let things go. Lance was the big roadblock to Keith getting on with his life.

He’d had braced himself for the puns. Lance had exhausted every single hand pun between the Galra base and the bathroom so Keith was expecting some more creativity. Maybe some shower and water puns instead. To his surprise no punnage happened.

Actually… that worried Keith. If Lance wasn’t mocking him, was he upset with him? Had he crossed a line? Should he go talk to him? Hahahahaha…. No.

Keith was just going to move on… until the touches started.

It was too subtle at first to think it was anything. Of course Keith did notice it because he was hyper focused on how casual Lance was being around him. So at dinner when Lance’s fingers brushed against Keith’s as he stood up to clear his plate, Keith noticed it.

The next day when Keith pressed the floor button in the elevator and Lance reached over to press his own floor while pressing his palm to the back of Keith’s hand, Keith noticed it.

He noticed the little brushes of fingertips when they passed in the hall and the trace of a finger on his wrist after Keith had disarmed Lance during training.

He noticed Lance’s hand gently knocking against his own when they stood next to each other during a briefing (Keith could not for the life of him recall what had been discussed during that meeting due to his thoughts being obsessively focused on what had just occurred.)

Keith was torn. He didn’t know how he felt about the touches. Whether he welcomed them or needed them to stop so he think of something else. Sometimes he avoided being near Lance, other times he sought him out, hovering in his vicinity, craving that tiny speck of physical contact that told him one thing: Lance was thinking about him too.

Then there was today’s mission. A Robeast had attacked a village on a planet called… something. What did it matter? There were so many planets and very few were memorable. Voltron had defeated the Robeast, but a local temple had been damaged in the process. They’d had to disassemble, land, and move on foot to help evacuate those who were inside. Luckily no one was badly injured so it was a matter of leading them out through a safe route. Keith had stood, holding up a falling wall by propping it against his back so everyone could get passed before it collapsed.

Keith strained against the weight as dozens of aliens were herded by the other Paladins through the passage. Lance came jogging up last, his bayard in blaster form.

“Anyone left?” asked Keith, hoping to be told he was done and he could let the wall drop and evacuate himself.

“All clear,” said Lance, slowing his pace to a walk as he approached Keith.

Since his back was doing the propping, Keith’s hands were free so he was expecting Lance to use his free hand to brush his fingers against his as he passed (admittedly he was highly anticipating that contact,) but it was a total surprise when instead Lance swept Keith’s hand into his own. Holding intense eye contact, Lance lifted Keith’s hand to his mouth and planted a soft kiss in the tiny square window of skin his fingerless gloves left exposed on the back of his hand.

Keith nearly let the wall collapse down on both of them.

Then Lance was moving on and Keith’s hand was empty, his mouth was dry, and his heart was beating like a kick drum.

After a mission Shiro would have them all write up reports. He said it was especially important to take stock after damage had been caused to local spaces because as a team they needed to be more protective of civilians. Keith usually blew off writing his (I mean… why did all five of them have to write basically the same thing? Pidge’s would be the best anyway. Just read hers) and when he did bother to write it he usually summed it up in a couple sentences:

We fought the robeast. Shit got knocked down.

Apparently Lance’s weren’t much better so the two of them had gotten a long lecture beforehand on how Shiro wanted detailed reports from both of them. Fine. If Shiro wanted detail, Keith would give him excruciating detail. In fact, he was a full two hours into writing his report and he’d only just finished describing the exact shade of orange on the Robeast’s shoulder panel.

Keith’s main goal with this lofty report was to annoy Shiro into never asking him to write detail again, but his less formal goal was the hope that it would at least make Shiro laugh… or groan. Just any kind of reaction. His brother had been too serious lately.

He was just starting in on the description of the opposite shoulder panel (which of course would need its own flowery language to basically say it matched the first) when a message popped on his console. It was from Lance and it was marked URGENT.

Wasn’t Lance sitting at his station not ten feet away? Keith looked around. He must’ve been very focused because last he’d checked all five of them had been writing their reports and now only three remained, Keith, Pidge… and Lance.

Keith raised his eyebrow as he caught Lance’s eye. Why was he messaging him when he was right there?

In response Lance simply swept his hand forward to indicate Keith should look back at his screen and read the message.

Keith sighed. Keith turned back and opened the message.

<LANCE> Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?

Keith… was lost. He didn’t know what this meant, but it put him off kilter. Keith hit reply and typed:

<KEITH> No. What do you mean?

Keith flipped back to his report, blinking, trying to remember if he was going to describe the shade of orange as smoky or charred. A reply arrived before he could think of it.

<LANCE> Typing away like that… relentless… your fingers dancing across the console… fast as lightning… it’s pornographic.

Keith’s mouth went dry. He swallowed hard. He looked down at his fingers, slightly bent, positioned to type if only his brain started working. He didn’t get it. They were just… his fingers. Now Lance’s hands… Lance’s hands he understood. Lance had those long, nimble fingers. The ones he waved about as he spoke, extenuating his words with graceful hand gestures. The kind of fingers Lance could shove into Keith’s mouth and force open his jaw and…

A new message arrived.

<LANCE> What are you thinking about?

Keith blushed, caught visiting his memory of the showers as if it were a dark fantasy. He prayed Lance couldn’t see the redness on the back of his neck. He shook it off. He was not the type to get blushy and awkward. Lance didn’t have that power over him.

<KEITH> My report. So should you.

The response was immediate.

<LANCE> Can’t. Thinking about your hands instead.

The next message didn’t wait for a reply.

<LANCE> It’s those gloves of yours. The way you hid your sexy little hands away by binding them in tight leather.

Keith gulped reading this. Lance was just… holy shit.

<LANCE> They’re such fucking teases, parading themselves in front of me all day. Showing just a hint of skin and forcing me to imagine the rest.

The messages just kept arriving.

<LANCE> But I’ve seen them naked. I’ve seen them dripping wet. Dirty little sluts. Especially the right one. I know where it likes to touch…

Keith was so overwhelmed he could hear blood rushing in his ears. In a fit he typed back:

<KEITH> Cut it out!  
<KEITH> P.s. You should talk. Your fingers have been inside me.

He… he didn’t even remember typing that last part. Still! Lance’s fingers had been inside his mouth. That wording implied something very different… Lance’s response was quick.

<LANCE> Maybe it’s time you stuck yours inside me.

Keith almost tipped sideways. This was the collapsing wall all over again. Somehow Lance knew how to turn up the gravity on Keith.

Keith’s eyes flicked to the side. Pidge was still at her station, her console turned on, but also her laptop on her lap. She was double screening it, likely oblivious to this very naughty text conversation that was taking place on their side of the Bridge.

Slowly and carefully Keith typed out his response. He read it over and took a deep breath and held it before he hit send.

<KEITH> What were you thinking?

Keith stared at what he’d written. He was going to regret this, wasn’t he?

CRACK

The unmistakable sound of Lance cracking his knuckles. Keith turned to see the boy stretching out his arms and then in a flash he was typing away furiously on his console. Lance didn’t even have to think about it. He already knew exactly what he wanted to do. That much was clear from the message that arrived thirty seconds later.

<LANCE> First I was peel those tight hand corsets off and get those pretty little sluts naked. Then I wanna lick your palm and make it nice and slick then pop every one of those little fingers into my mouth and then when your hand is dripping wet… well you can do whatever you want with it… ;) ;) ;)

Shit… Lance had thought this through and also… Keith pictured all of that as he read it and his jeans were way too tight now. Way, way, way too tight…

CLICK

The unmistakable sound of Pidge closing her laptop. Keith flicked his gaze to the left to see her indeed standing up and packing it in for the night. Fuck. That was dangerous.

“Goodnight,” she called out as she walked to the exit.

“Night Pidge!” called Lance, enthusiastically. He sounded far too happy.

Keith was in trouble.

He switched back to his report. Report on what? He couldn’t remember. The words didn’t even want to focus for him and the words that he could read made no sense. Not when he could sense someone approaching. And certainly not when Lance stood beside him. Lance’s jacket was off. With the three-quarter sleeves of his shirt, his wrists were exposed. Keith deliberately looked anywhere but at Lance.

“You almost done?” Lance asked casually as if he hadn’t just flung message after of message of complete filth into Keith’s inbox.

“No,” said Keith because he wasn’t and not because he was terrified of what would come next if he said yes.

“I guess you’ll just have to type one-handed,” said Lance in a casual tone.

Keith’s eyes darted to Lance to catch him with the mischievous grin. Keith quickly turned back to his report. Oh, if only he could remember how to type he could lie and say he was busy.

“What’s wrong?” asked Lance, his tone teasing. “Can’t think of a word?”

Keith’s blood was definitely not in his brain right now.

“I hate when that happens,” said Lance, dropping oh so gracefully onto his knees beside Keith’s chair and just… hanging out there like that was a natural spot to chat to Keith from. “I can help though. I’ll ask a yes or no question and you just need to use on of those two words. No hard thinking required.”

Keith resisted gulping knowing full well Lance would see.

“Can I…,” began Lance, taking Keith’s right hand from his spot where it had been hovering over the keys in midair…, “Borrow this for a minute? It won’t take long.”

This time Keith did gulp, looking at his hand now in Lance’s grasp. He knew what answer he should give. He knew what would be best for his sanity… but… he also knew exactly what he wanted to say.

“Yes,” said Keith, surprised by the croakiness of his own voice. He hadn’t used it in hours even though he felt like him and Lance had already had a full conversation in that time.

“I was so hoping you’d say that,” murmured Lance. His hands were already working on Keith’s gloved hand, rubbing it down with a massage that went from his wrists to his fingertips and back up again.

Keith looked back to his console. Okay, so he’d surrendered that hand and for some reason felt like what happened next was none of his business, which didn’t make sense. Foolishly, he tried to follow Lance’s advice and ‘type one-handed.’ So he went back to his report, tapping away at keys with his index finger even though he wasn’t writing anything close to real words. At least he wasn’t giving Lance the satisfaction of watching him work. He was already radiating a smugness that was hard to stomach.

So Keith looked at his screen and tap-tap-tapped away at the console keys and pretended he wasn’t experiencing Lance’s skilled fingers running over his hand and massaging out all the tension and tight muscles.

SNAP

The unmistakable sound of Lance undoing the button on Keith’s fingerless gloves. Okay, now Keith couldn’t pretend anymore. He had to watch this part. Had to intently watch as Lance slid his fingertips under the edge of his glove and slowly peeled it back.

“It’s so tight,” muttered Lance.

Keith sucked his lip into his mouth and bit down. He would not verbally react to this.

The glove caught briefly at the fingers then released. With a flick of his wrist, Lance was rid of the thing, flinging it to the side as it weren’t one half of Keith’s favourite possessions, and then his fingertips, Lance’s fingertips were exploring Keith’s naked hand.

“You have the softest skin,” muttered Lance. “I guess that’s what the gloves are for.”

That… wasn’t accurate, but as Lance brushed his lips over Keith’s knuckles for the first time, he realized how sensitive his hands were. They didn’t often make direct contact with anything. They were used to having a barrier layer. If wearing gloves was like using a condom, this was like barebacking. At least that’s what Keith thought as Lance sucked his pinky into his mouth, knuckle deep.

Keith’s spine melted as he sunk against the back of his chair. So that’s what that felt like. Now he understood Lance’s reaction inside the Galra base. That felt amazing.

Lance looked so pleased with himself and Keith kinda hated that Lance could see him reacting to this. The shower had been better with Keith’s back to him, just feeling his hands rub all over his back and neck and shoulders…

The memory of the shower was mixing with the sensation of Lance sucking each of his fingers into his mouth in turn and giving them a swirl with his tongue before slowly pulling back off.

Keith was sinking lower and lower in his seat. His jeans had never been so restrictive. He watched Lance through heavy-lidded eyes, losing the ability to care that Lance was watching him come undone, was making him come undone.

Lance was no by-the-book hand licker. Keith quickly learned he couldn’t predict what Lance would do next. He’d suck two fingers down the line then suddenly flip Keith’s hand over and lick from his wrist to his knuckles then dip his tongue between the middle finger and the index before heading on over to the meaty part of his palm below the thumb and giving it a nibble.

It was a process and Keith trusted it because it was driving him crazy with want. The fingers on his left hand gave a twitch from their resting place on his thigh (he’d long since given up on pretending to type.) He was so tempted to just run them over himself through his jeans. Give himself that extra push he needed to get there just like he had in the shower.

He retrained himself. Lance hadn’t been able to see what Keith was doing in the shower. He’d known, but he wasn’t watching. That was the difference. He couldn’t. Not now. Not while Lance watched.

Teeth grazed his palm before Lance went back to kissing and licking and sucking right there in the center. Keith’s whole hand was chilled from the wetness spread all over it. Lance had his head turned to the side, his eyes locked on Keith’s. Keith took in a big suck of air and let it out. He was losing that battle with his urges. It wouldn’t take much friction for him to finish. Lance had gotten him so keyed up it almost hurt.

Lance lowered Keith’s hand then spit into the palm.

“Here,” he said, wiping a bit of stray spittle from his chin, “That one’s yours again. Do what you want.” As he said this his eyes lowered to Keith’s lap, lingered there then slowly dragged back up.

That was… that was a go ahead if Keith had ever seen one.

Then Lance was standing and walking around the back of Keith’s station and Keith was using his left hand, his dry hand to undo his fly. He wouldn’t take himself out. He wasn’t comfortable with Lance seeing that, but he could make it a bit roomier.

Keith let his hand slip under the waistband of his underwear and felt that electric grip of pleasure as he finally touched himself.

Lance had prepped his hand for this.

Wow. This was all Lance. He thought that as he ran his hand over himself, not thinking too deeply about what he was doing, just chasing a feeling that needed to be found, that was hiding just out of reach.

He wasn’t alone.

Lance dropped down on his knees beside Keith, now on the opposite side of him. Keith was a little lost until Lance pulled Keith’s left hand, still gloved towards him.

“This one’s going to be for me, okay?”

Keith nodded his approval. Yes, one each. That made sense, not really questioning what Lance would want that hand for and not really caring either way because he was getting so close…

SNAP

Teeth gripped Keith’s glove as Lance used his mouth to remove it. Before he’d been slow and calculated. Now Lance was rough and fast, urgency building in the air.

Keith was lost watching Lance work as he worked on himself almost subconsciously. He’d thought things couldn’t get hotter. They did.

Lance bit down on the knuckle of Keith’s thumb, an aggressive glint in his eye. Then instead of more mouth work he took Keith by the wrist and guided his hand onto him. Over Lance’s chest, across his collarbone, around his neck then up to the back of his head. Keith enjoyed the feeling of Lance’s soft, close cropped hair.

Slick in one hand, soft in the other.

Lance pushed Keith’s hand firmly there. Keith instinctively gripped Lance’s hair tightly. Lance reacted with a satisfied smile. Keith tugged a little. Lance bit his lip. Keith tugged again and Lance let out a little, “mmhm” sound.

Keith nearly lost it on that noise alone, but he was holding back and slowing just a bit. Good things were happening here and he wasn’t really to release just yet.

Lance’s left hand reached up to touch Keith’s left forearm then traveled up his arm, tracing tickles over his elbow and bicep then up his shoulder and neck until Lance’s palm was in Keith’s face. Keith dipped his head forward to kiss it. Lance pushed his thumb into Keith’s mouth and Keith audibly moaned his approval. He loved that. Loved when Lance forced his fingers inside just like he was doing now. His index and middle finger joined the thumb, shoved inside and a curled to mould to the shape of Keith’s tongue. They pushed too deep. Keith gagged.

When Lance tried to pull back out, Keith wouldn’t let him. He sucked the fingers back in, possessive. He squinted through teary eyes at Lance’s gaping face. He had him now too. Keith increased his speed, mirroring his touch to his suck as he bobbed on Lance’s fingers. Lance added the last two fingers, forcing Keith’s jaw open wide and… and…

He lost it. His vision clouded and every bit of tingle and heat that had been brewing below shot outwards through his limbs, making his back arch. He gripped Lance’s hair so hard he yanked his head back, earning a gasp that joined Keith’s moans to fill the empty Bridge with noise.

Fingers withdrew from his mouth. His grip released on Lance’s hair as every single muscle in Keith’s body relaxed into a pretty hum.

His left hand was pulled to Lance’s mouth. He gave him soft, gentle kisses on the back of his hand. Keith’s gaze focused on Lance and saw that flush of his face and his heavy-lidded eyes. Keith wasn’t finished. Not when Lance was still in it like that. He needed to pull Lance along and bring him with him. They had to both get there this time.

Lance’s spit drenched left hand reached downwards to repeat what Keith had just done. Keith didn’t want that though. Not when his loopy, endorphin spiked head was reminding him of something they’d not done.

Keith pulled his right hand back out and wiped it on his jeans before using it to tug at Lance. He pulled at him with both hands until Lance got the message to move and stand and let Keith pull him down on top of him.

Then Lance was just… in his lap, straddling his left leg. But that was a good thing because Keith wanted Lance’s face nice and close so he could trace his fingers over his jaw and across his lips, every sensation lit up and intense in his semi-high state.

Blue eyes flicked to Keith’s then down to his fingers, searching and lost and caught in a state of needing something. That’s when Keith slid his palms around to the back of Lance’s neck and gave that light pull to let Lance know he was hoping he’d get closer if he so chose.

Lance chose.

Dove even.

Letting the weight of his head drop forward so his face clumsily knocked into Keith’s. It took them a second to get the angle right, but then their lips finally met. Keith felt a little tentative, but Lance’s state was of wanting. His lips were so soft and he welcomed the pressure. That bit of wet and that brushing sensation felt good with the heat of Lance’s flushed face radiating against his rapidly cooling skin.

The lips were a conduit of feeling. He could capture what Lance felt through them and he could send all of what he felt back. He thought this as Lance increased the pace and sunk his fingers into Keith’s longer hair.

This was good. Helping Lance get what he wanted. Lance’s hips began rolling, pressing himself against Keith’s leg to get that friction of motion.

‘Whatever you want,’ thought Keith, as his hands travelled down Lance’s back. He found the hem of his shirt and ducked under and scratched his fingers upwards. Lanced moaned into his mouth. He pulled back from the kiss, their eyes meeting.

He could read exactly where Lance’s build was in those shiny eyes.

“C’mon, baby,” mumbled Keith, pushing his hands into Lance’s back, giving him permission to move a little faster and little rougher against Keith’s leg.

One hand left Keith’s hair and travelled back until it found Keith’s face. Lance pushed the thumb back into Keith’s mouth then pulled it out to trace it across Keith’s bottom lip.

He tasted him again, that thumb pressed between their lips. Keith dragged his hands all the way up, until the shirt escaped him and he abandoned Lance’s back to touch his face with his fingertips. Keith found little dips and grooves on Lance to touch as the boy nipped at his lips until the anticipation grew too much and Keith watched at close range as Lance’s eyebrows knotted together before his kiss became forceful and deep.

Their hands moved out of the way and found each other on either side of them. Their fingers weaved and gripped tight. Lance bit Keith’s bottom lip as his hips rolled quicker against him.

Lance’s head dropped down against Keith’s shoulder. Keith’s name escaped him like sigh interlaced with moans. Lance’s hips stuttered as his fingers gripped Keith’s hands, knuckles white.

Keith felt dizzy from it. Like he was inhaling it. Like Lance was pushing waves of what he felt into Keith and he was in it thick and deep.

Weight dropped onto Keith’s leg. Grip loosened. Lance enveloped himself around Keith like a weighted blanket. In turn, he wrapped his arms around him and held him there, in place.

Keith needed that comfort because this was the scary bit, the part where his brain comes down and the uncertainty starts to trickle in. The questions of what happens next arose. Keith had been once again lost in a moment with no thought to the future. This happened a lot in space…

It was difficult… never feeling grounded.

Lance lifted his head and met Keith’s eye. Keith had braced himself for the usual Lance, the loud, hyper version he was used to, but was met with a soft look that made him release a terrified breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

And then Lance was kissing him with soft butterfly touches and Keith’s mind was trying to reconcile his usual version of Lance with the tender one he was holding. Heck, he couldn’t even reconcile his own concept of himself with the version of him that would hold Lance like this.

Sensing his hesitance, Lance stopped and pulled back a little, searching Keith’s eyes. What was reading from them?

“Lance…,” mumbled Keith, trying to form the right question, but finding it was all too large for him.

Lance replied without another sound spoken, rushing through his words. “Keith, I’m drawn to you.”

This hit something deep in Keith and he felt himself freeze. So many follow-up questions he wanted to ask like when… did this… start?

“Don’t… retreat,” said Lance slowly and carefully and then he was peeling himself off Keith.

Keith blinked, studying Lance. He didn’t look upset or like he was leaving because Keith had fucked up somehow. Lance looked calm for once as he straightened his clothes and walked back towards the exit.

The word ‘wait’ began to shape on his lips. Keith hadn’t expected this as an ending. Honestly, he assumed they’d be rudely interrupted before even kissing just like the last two times, but…

Keith’s fingers touched his own lips. They’d kissed and Lance had said he was… drawn to Keith.

Alone with his thoughts, Keith leaned forward and tapped send on his report, gibberish and all. It didn’t matter anymore. He hit close on Lance’s messages too before leaning back in his seat. He swallowed on a lump in his throat, drawing his knees up to his chest.

He wasn’t moving on from this one…

**Author's Note:**

> This is Part 3 of the series HANDS so please subscribe to me or the series if you want more.
> 
> Also, check out the writers this is gifted to for more Klance content!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> BBBKxoxox


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